


Twinge

by missmishka



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 4x01 "Simple Pleasures", Angst, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 18:12:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmishka/pseuds/missmishka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He misses him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twinge

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: The usual; I claim no ownership of these characters, they are simply borrowed with love and adoration from the original creators to have their stories, thoughts or circumstances embellished on a little more than the original format had done. Not for any profit.
> 
> No beta. First foray into the fandom because I just can't keep watching Mickey wreck himself like this without wanting to write him.

He stares at the picture; Ian’s smile and face and those fucking freckles.

He focuses on the lips, tries to remember them on his dick as he puts his hand inside his pants.  He bends over the sink and tries to dream up a fantasy of Ian fucking into him in this position, but his dick stays soft no matter how much his body wants to get off to relieve some tension.

His eyes drift to the whole of Ian’s face, though, and he can’t drum up any enthusiasm for a fantasy. 

He’s fucked up in a way he’s beginning to realize that he might not get past.

He’d thought he could get Ian to come around to his thinking; that they’d get back to fucking one another eventually once Ian got used to Svetlana.  He’d never thought Ian would leave.

Not just Mickey, he’d left everyone; everything. 

A few days gone, no problem; he still had his panties in a fucking bunch but he’d come around.

A few weeks gone, ok, he was really pissed.

Time was adding up to months now and if the Gallaghers are asking Mandy for information, it did not bode well.  Fiona clearly wasn’t too worried, she hadn’t called the cops yet, but Mickey found himself staring at the photo wondering.

_Where are you?_

_What the fuck are you doing?_

_Are you ok?_

And the thought that pulls his hand from his pants to slam his fist into the mirror, _I miss you._

It hurt. 

It hurt so fucking much and the pain didn’t have a damned thing to do with his bloody knuckles.


End file.
